


Our Graveyard-Walking Song

by sailoreyes67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Allergies, Angst, M/M, allergic!sam, background samifer, crazy!Cas, h/c, hell memories, sneezekink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailoreyes67/pseuds/sailoreyes67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel lights candles, one for each piece of the travesty Lucifer made of Sam---of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Graveyard-Walking Song

He lights a candle. A candle, a candle, a candle. One candle for each night. Sam’s pain seethes inside of him--- red, hot, burning, _angry_. The angriest thing in the world. He’s glad. He falls into it. It’s the angriest thing in the world, but also the gentlest. Lucifer whispering sweet nothings in his ear, tracing lines of anguish along the curve of his lips.  
  
He revels in it.  
  
He wants this.  
  
He wants everything about this, from the low buzz of anger the to hot throb of lust. Just below his waistline. The delicate touches at the tip of his spine and the infinite singing of birds. The drums, like a human heartbeat----a human heart being torn to shreds by all the most beautiful things it carries.  
  
Sam’s heart.  
  
There aren’t enough candles.  
  
Castiel feels all the broken things in Sam’s heart, and he cradles each one of them. Whispers sweet nothings to them. Traces lines of hope on the curves of the broken pieces that aren’t his own, hope that some day, Sam will be whole again... as if Sam could hear him.  
  
He lights a thousand candles now.  
  
A million candles. All burning, all burning for the things Sam’s lost.  
  
“Sam. Sam. Sam Sam.”  
  
 _(A candle, a candle, a Sam, a Sam._  
  
A Sam is as a Sam is and a Sam is just Sam. He sees that now.)  
  
Smoke rises through the air, curling, draping the room in gray. Somewhere, someone’s coughing.  
  
(Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam. Back then Castiel thought he was indestructable.)  
  
He wants to scream and cry and stare out the window forever, where he could escape. It’s beautiful out there. Distant. Safe. No thoughts of angels screaming, tearing their feathers out as they fall, fall forever----No. Safe. Someone’s coughing.  
  
(Someone screams.)  
  
“Hey... Cas.” A warm sound, a breath in his ear. _Nobody screamed._ Sam sounds--- choked, like he’s fighting back a lump in his throat.  
  
Not a lump. Something else.  
  
He’s safe here. No harm, no damage done. No one’s damaged.  
  
A candle for every mistake, a candle, a candle a candle. A sharp exhale and breath exploding his ear.  
  
Castiel turns. Sam’s there. Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam Sam Sam. He’s rubbing his nose, frowning a little.  
  
He’s Sam. Castiel reaches up and runs his fingers over his jaw. Sam’s face changes, he jerks away.  
  
 _(Castiel damaged him that much. That much, that much, that much.)_  
  
“Sorry, Cas, I--- _hhhh_ **KUSH!** _TchYew!”_  
  
Sam sneezes, and draws back.  
  
I love you, Castiel thinks. I love you, I love you, I love you.  
  
He’s so grateful for the pain, so grateful for the pain he’s drowning in.  
  
(They’re both drowning.)  
  
Sam can barely breathe, can barely draw in a breath before he’s off sneezing again, tight little bursts like he’s trying to hold them back.  
  
 _In the distance, someone was coughing._  
  
Sam gets his breath. “I... I’m allergic. It’s a lot of smoke.” He jerks forward and pinches his nose between his fingers, squeaking, squelching the wetness there and then stifling a cough like he did the sneeze.  
  
 _In the distance, someone was coughing._  
  
But now he's here.  
  
He's here and he's damaged and Castiel grabs him---grabs SAM---and presses their mouths together. Holds for a heartbeat, far too quick, until Sam pulls away. Sneezes into his cupped hands. Sighs quietly.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Castiel murmers. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry.” He’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for.  
  
Sam coughs. “It’s okay.”  
  
(They stay that way until the sun comes up, until the candles are puddles on the floor. Until Sam can breathe again, and Castiel can’t.)


End file.
